


Kill KIll

by Mrs_Dark_Knight



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempt at Humor, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Fluff and Angst, I'm Sorry, Izzy Is A Dick, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-01 05:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11479146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Dark_Knight/pseuds/Mrs_Dark_Knight
Summary: Five times Axl threatened to kill Izzy+the one time it was the other way around.





	1. 1. High School, Indiana

 

 _“Katy,_ man, the cheerleader.”

Izzy quirked a brow trying to get a little extra space between them on the ratty couch. “Mhm.” He couldn't care less about some bottle-blonde cheer captain.

Apparently he didn’t sound impressed enough for Axl’s liking. “Katy? The one with the tits, man.” The redhead squirmed, pressing himself closer to Izzy’s side—the complete opposite of what the brunet was going for. His house was hot enough already thanks to the broken air conditioner, Axl insisting on wedging himself as close as possible to Izzy was only making it worse.

“Ah, Katy.” Izzy hummed, hanging one long leg over the arm rest. Axl took this as an invitation to roll over as best as he could and force his leg between the brunet’s thighs. Whatever, at least his skinny hipbones weren’t cutting into Izzy’s skin anymore.

“I’m totally asking her out.” His breath danced across Izzy’s skin through the tin material of his shirt. They had only an hour till service, and Axl would have to make the dreaded journey back.

“Why?” Izzy asked, stroking his fingers through tangled red locks.

Axl sputtered, “What do you mean why? She’s hot, and she’s got the—”

“—tits, yes I know, you’ve mentioned.” Izzy bared his teeth in an attempt at a smile. Not that Axl had seen, too busy pressing his face to Izzy’s chest, breathing him in. “Do you like her?” He asked coyly, you never knew what could send Axl into a rage.

Axl groaned, squirming and jarring his body against Izzy’s. “Do you ever listen? Everyone wants—”

“Yeah, but what do _you_ want?” Careful. He always had to tread so carefully around someone as unstable as this. But Axl hadn’t punched him in the face and stomped away yet so that was always a good sign.

“You know what.” Axl grunted, plush lips finding Izzy’s pale skin, pressing barely there kisses against it.

“I read minds now?” He tried, chewing on his lower lip, methodically working his fingers through Axl’s hair. It kept them both grounded.

The redhead shifted again, and Izzy held his breath, willing himself to stay still. The slightest of movements could ruin everything.

“You tryna _make_ me say it?”

“No idea what yer spouting.” Axl’s weight was pressing him into the couch now, not particularly heavy, but just _enough_. Axl had always been enough for him, but if the redhead’s desire to pursue Katy-with-the-tits was anything to go by—he wasn’t.

The thought sent a sharp spike of something ugly through him and he was suddenly _furious._ Furious that Axl followed everything they’d ever done with ‘ _I aint no fag_ ’, furious that he lived his life convinced he was something sick, furious that Axl went out of his way to prove himself to everyone with just about every girl in town at the expense of his own happiness.

Axl laughed wryly, eyes flicking to Izzy’s lips. “Just shut up and put your mouth to better use.” He whispered, as if convinced someone—God maybe—would hear and Stephen would get word of his sinful behavior.

That would be bad for both of them.

Izzy couldn’t exactly complain, it was as much of an invitation as he’d ever get from the redhead and he’d take it.

Axl’s kisses were always forceful and bruising, they left him breathless and wanting—but if you were patient, if you coaxed him into it with gentle touches and whispered praises, he surrendered himself beautifully.

Izzy did just that until Axl was sighing contentedly, completely relaxed, carefree in a way he was meant to be.

He’d show him he could very well be enough.

\------

Izzy never made a habit out of going to school. He wasn’t in denial—school wasn’t a place for the likes of him. He only ever got work done if Axl walked him through it, breathing down his neck every step of the way. Sitting in exam rooms and being forced to regurgitate whatever shit they forced into his brain wasn’t how he saw himself spending years of his life.

He made it his duty to show up today, because he knew damn well Axl was going to ask Katy out. Hell, Izzy had even worn his best pants (the one that had only two holes in it) and washed his normally greasy hair. The brunet felt odd and out of place, but once he was on campus such feelings were commonplace.

_Axl had eyed him suspiciously on the walk over, lips curling down as he took in Izzy’s get up. “What are you doing?”_

_“Attending school, like I should be.” Izzy replied, lips almost curling into a smile. Almost._

_The almost-smile had seemed to freak Axl out even more. The redhead fiddled with a lock of hair behind his ears and kept his eyes trained on his sneakers. “Don’t take you as the kind that does things he should.”_

_“New year, new me?”_

_The redhead snorted rudely._

_“We’re in the middle of June.” Axl pointed out, raising his blue-green eyes to meet smoky ones. “What are you up to Isbell?”_

_“Not a damn thing.”_

And he had done just that, in his defense. Not a damn thing. That was until the bell rang and Axl all but busted his ass to meet the cheerleaders coming off the field.

Izzy hummed quietly, using his blue Papermate pen to shade the blue of Axl’s eyes at the back of his book. Sharing wasn’t ever his strong point, he was an only child after all and he didn’t intend to share his Axl with just about anyone.

Their relationship was unhealthy maybe (they were too dependent on each other, too clingy, it was all too much), but neither of the two could claim they were anything _close_ to healthy.

It’s why they fit so perfectly together.

He waited till Axl came back from the field, breathing hard, cheeks flushed pink. “You ready?”

“I’m staying a bit longer.” Izzy offered him that smile again, the charming one he saved just for situations like this. “Detention.”

The redhead paused, clearly confused. Like hell Izzy ever stayed for detention. “Well, do you want me to wait?”

“You should get home, it’s a Thursday isn’t it? You know enthusiastic daddy dearest is about Youth Thursdays.” Completely uncalled for, a low blow, but necessary.

Axl stiffened, eyes flashing dangerously before he turned away. "Whatever."

“Hey, how’d it go with Katy?” Axl whirled on him, eyes cold and calculating. Izzy’s smug expression remained firmly in place. He knew, now all he had to do was wait.

“It went fine.” Axl said, slowly, eyes never leaving Izzy’s. He clearly wanted to say more, but settled for shaking his head and walking away.

Fine.

It was all too easy to get Katy alone, a flick of his dark hair and a charming smile was all it took ( _she was easy, laughably so. Not enough—never enough for someone like Axl—_ ). It was even easier to wrap his fingers vice-tight around her skinny wrists and allow the ugly, sharp feeling to contort his face into something that terrified her.Allowing the steel to seep its way into his voice was the easiest thing in the world:

“You don’t fucking go near him, you don’t fucking talk to him _ever_ again.”

She tossed her pretty blonde head from side to side, rouge lips parted in a silent scream, much too afraid to let a sound slip past.

“Do you understand?” His fingers tightened, they had to leave a mark. Izzy didn’t care, he was mad with his need to claim what was his.

“Y-yes, just please—”

She understood.

\-----

Axl didn’t.

He clambered into Izzy’s room, cursing and stomping all the way, deliberately knocking over a few knickknacks.

“Please don’t break my records.”

Axl gazed at him, eyes wide. “Katy called it off.”

 _“Did_ she now?”

“Said some bullshit about not feeling it anymore.” He dropped his bad unceremoniously on the wooden floor, kicked off his sneakers and crawled into bed. “It’s crazy, just outta nowhere.”

...

_“Izzy...”_

...

“What did you do?” His voice was unsteady, his body tense.

The brunet squinted down at his book, suddenly really interested in Moby Dick.

“You fucking son of a bitch, I’m gonna kill you!” The redhead hissed, pulling away as if he had been burnt. “I swear to god I’m—”

“You shouldn’t swear.”

He huffed a hysterical laugh, staring at Izzy in amazement. “You’re one sick little shit—”

The brunet waved him off with a flick of his wrist, “Kill me later, come check this out.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Axl mumbled the entire way over there, purposely elbowing Izzy in the ribs on the way.

They lay together tangled in each other for hours, breathing in sync, with Axl reminding Izzy ever so often that he’d totally get around to the killing thing once the book was done.


	2. 2. Hellhouse, LA

Axl wasn’t exactly, well, _vain._ He knew that people found him “good looking” in some way or another, but he never paid much attention to it—he hardly ever had the time.

That was probably for the better.

Being out of a job more often than not while waiting for a record deal gave him a bit more time to do worry about it.

The redhead found himself spending hours before the mirror like a damn teen, teasing his hair, scrutinizing every flaw, picturing himself with a new haircut or just...staring. He couldn't see any of the so-called “beauty” people swore he had. His cheekbones were too sharp (getting by on weed and ramen probably helped with that), his eyes were too small, his nose wasn't _exactly_  as straight as it could be. His lips were chapped (but walking around with chap-stick was fucking gay, even for him), he couldn't grow a beard to save his life and to top it all off, his hair was... fucking comically _red._

It wasn't that he was ugly (nothing so drastic), he just... well he looked like his father. And that was a pain in the ass.

The redhead snorted, tugging at the loose strands of his hair. “You’re so vain, Princess.”

Of course he’d never let the others catch him in the act, and he usually limited his episodes to the “privacy” (if it could be labeled as such) of the tiny bathroom.

Unfortunately, Izzy, being the sneaky fucker that he was, managed to catch him red-handed once.

“What are you doing?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity. The redhead's hands were placed firmly on the edges of the sink, face just inches away from his reflection. Suspicious indeed.

Axl froze, keeping his eyes locked on his reflection in the mirror. No way was he talking his way out of this. “You think I should dye my hair?”

The brunet quirked a brow. “What? Are we going glam now? Gonna get pink hair?”

“This isn’t about _us,_ it’s about _me.”_ Axl replied, thankful the tension was seeping out of the room. “It’s LA, right? Time for a new me. I’m sick of the red.” He tried to stop the disdain from leaking into his tone but if Izzy's flat expression was anything to go by, he had done a shitty job.

“Where’s this coming from?” Izzy frowned, allowing the redhead to brush pass him.

“From me. I wanna change it.” He muttered, chewing the corner of his thumb.

“Change what?” Steven chirped from his spot on the floor. How long was he just laying there? Did Izzy step over him to get in?

“My hair.”

Steven squinted up at the tangled red mass, apparently making his own calculations, before nodding decisively. “You’re right. I’ve always thought you’d look cool with a Mohawk and a beard. Like those guys from ZZ Top, ya know?”

“No fucking way.” Axl exclaimed, shuddering at the thought. “I meant the color, not shaving half of it off.” He hadn’t had a bare head since the day he was born, he wasn’t sure he wanted to remember the feeling.

Steven sat up, lurching alarmingly a few times. “Blond. Go blond.”

“Did someone say Blond?” Someone bellowed for the direction of the kitchen. That would be Slash of course, since Duff was the only one with a job (no, drug dealing _didn’t_ count). The guitarist appeared at the door, clinging to the wall for support (damn it, was everyone tripping balls in this house?). “Oh-Em-Gee—” Slash’s vocabulary just served to remind everyone he had a younger sibling “—you would _totally_ rock blond hair!”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause your boyfriend’s blond.” Izzy accused, hating how the situation was spiraling out of control. _No_ way in hell was his redhead turning into some bottle blond.

Slash frowned, considering it (as best as he could ‘consider’ anything while high off his ass). “Well,” He finally pronounced, “Duff is kinda hot.”

Steven groaned, “It’s hard enough living in a house of queers, please don’t start waxing poetic about your giant.”

“So that’s a yes on the blond thing, huh?” Axl asked absently, avoiding Izzy’s glare. Hell, he hadn’t protested when Izzy dyed his hair with that cheap blue-black mess of a dye.

“Definitely.”

“Fuck yeah!”

“No.” Izzy huffed, “Axl, what is—”

“Sorry kiddo, looks like you’re outnumbered three to one.” The soon-to-be-blond mumbled, slinking out of the room before Izzy could question him further.

\----------

Izzy cornered Axl one night after he got in from “work”.

“So...”

The redhead jumped almost a foot into the air, biting back an unmanly squeal. “Izzy, what the fuck?”

“Wanna tell me what this hair thing is really about.” He soldiered on, smirking when Axl groaned.

“That was a fucking week ago, aren’t you over it?” It wasn’t liked he had scraped together enough money to buy a cheap bottle of dye, which he wrapped in plastic and stuffed under the sink.

Ok. He did.

“Are you?” Izzy asked slowly.

“It’s not a big deal.” The redhead grumbled after a moment of tense silence, stomping off in an attempt to declare the conversation over.

Izzy dragged a hand over his face. “You shouldn’t worry about it, you’re perfect just the way you are.”

His voice was muffled, but Axl heard, and dismissed, him anyway.

It seemed he would have to take care if things himself.

\---------

“What the fuck are you guys doing?” Duff blinked at the men on the floor, angled towards the bathroom door, waiting in silence.

These fuckers were never silent without good reason.

“Axl’s dyeing his hair.” Slash slurred, beaming up at Duff. “Hey baby, we’ll have another blond in the band.”

“Like two dumb blonds weren’t enough.”

“Woah there.” Duff chuckled as he bent double to give Slash a hug of some sort. “Someone does not agree with this change.”

Izzy shrugged, ducking his head to hide a sinister smile. “Well, I’ll be in the hall having a smoke if you need me.”

Duff watched him go, completely puzzled. “Thought he’d want to be the first to see this.”

Their drummer shrugged, eyes glued to the door. “Well, he’s weird so don’t worry about it.”

Duff was about to raise another concern when the Axl’s deafening banshee scream echoed through the entire apartment.

“Maybe he doesn’t like blond?” Slash mused, scrambling to his feet and toward the door. There really was no need since Axl burst into the room flushed all the way down to his chest and dripping water all over the tiles.

He was also very naked. And... very, pink?

“WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?!” Axl roared, narrowing his eyes at the bunch. “One word about this and I swear to god I will rip your balls off and shove it down your throats!”

“Uh...” Stevie answered intelligently, blinking at Axl’s fuchsia hair. It was still red, it was just... pinker. He muffled his laughter in his hands, not even he was dumb enough to let a pissed off Axl hear him.

“I thought you were going blond,” Duff said just as Izzy walked in whistling.

“Oh... you’re done?” Izzy hummed. “That was quick.” He put his cigarette out on their piece of shit couch, carefully keeping it between him and Axl at all times.

“What the fuck did you _do_?” Axl asked calmly, still stark naked with no intentions of covering up. “I never even noticed till I was washin—”

“The brunet shrugged nonchalantly. “You wanted a change so...”

“I’m gonna fucking _kill_ you!” Axl swore, blue eyes darting around madly for something to toss at Izzy’s stupid little head. “I can’t fucking leave the house now, I—”

_“Relax._ It’s temporary, it’ll wash out.” Izzy said, _strategically_ inching towards the door as Axl inched towards Steven’s baseball bat.

“We should definitely get outta the way.” Slash muttered, crawling on all fours towards their kitchen table. Duff could see the logic in that, so he followed suit.

Axl bared his teeth in a smile. “Hopefully your blood will wash out too.”

Ïzzy cleared his throat nervously; this might be the last thing he ever said in a while. “I just want you to know, we all love you exactly the way you are. No need to change anything.”

Axl spent the remaining hours of the day chasing Izzy with a bat—the fucker was fast on his feet—and even though he was fucking furious the little gypsy shit had even _dared_ , the sentiment wasn’t lost on him.

It was sweet. In a twisted, Izzy kinda way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are just tiny ficlets, every chapter is different.  
> I don't exactly know why I'm writing this but... ehh I started.

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't kill me, I haven't stopped writing.  
> My mind would just rather gift you this than chapter 11 of HCTS :)  
> Hahaha, it's fine right?  
> I'm sorry lol.


End file.
